The Dice Must Be Thrown
by CD Ward
Summary: The true reason why Will Turner challenged Davy Jones on his own ship – forget that stupid key, slash, originally posted on Livejournal


Title: The dice must be thrown  
Pairing: Davy Jones / Will Turner (Will POV)  
Summary: The true reason why Will Turner challenged Davy Jones on his own ship – forget that stupid key  
Beta: most needed and appreciated – thank you Lessy!  
Disclaimer: you know it anyway – not mine, never happened, it is all a huge lie

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"I challenge Davy Jones!"

I speak the words I have spoken so often already since that first night I came to the captain's ship when Jack once again tried to play a game with me, use me and my ideals for his own little game. Like that said night this one is also dark and wet. The pouring rain nearly hurts and the heavy body of the ship seesaws between the waves. Strands of wet hair cling to my face and I cannot see properly through the deep darkness. Even after several visits to the 'Dutchman' I still have the feeling that the nights are darker and the darkness is deeper on board. I grip the hawser tighter to keep my balance, standing on the rail and I am hardly able to fight the urge to turn around and make sure that there is no beast creeping up from the deep sea – up, up to kill and eat whatever it might find. I will never ever forget the monster they call The Kraken and I pray not to face it again in my entire life. But at the same time I know this hope will fail because it is not about what I want or what I do. It is all about what Davy Jones wants.

The crew of the 'Dutchman' turns around. The creatures who once were men and are now suffering a life somewhere between being human, weird creatures of the sea – and being dead. They have seen anything and everything. I can see it in their eyes when they stare at me for a moment as they realise that the fool has returned. Yes, they see nothing but a fool in me because I am coming back again and again and they do not see the reason why anyone would do this. All they know is that they would give everything to change places with me and leave, without coming back. But there is a reason. A good one. I can see the jealousy and disbelief when they recognise me, I can breathe it, taste it, feel it.

It is always the same.

I know that I must not fear anything and I know what scares me everytime I come here again. I stand there and brave the elements, I wait and give them the time they need. I give him the time he needs. The minutes pass and still I have the feeling that the time stands still. A glaring bolt of lightening brightens the nightly black sky for a brief moment and more than ever the ship looks like a ghost ship and so does its crew. Shadows rise and fall again, come to life and die only a second later, before you can really understand that they have been there. And even when the shadows disappear, a part of them lingers on deck as if waiting patiently for the next moment they can awaken again.

And then I can hear it. The familiar staccato sound of his steps – quiet and muffled, nothing more than a lost whisper beneath the thick planks against the storm. A brief smile tugs at the corners of my mouth because I never need to call the challenge to him twice. He always hears me the first time and it does not matter how loud I speak. I remember the first time I came here; shouting his name as if this would gain any more respect, as if this would impress him – him of all people! But I learned and now I never raise my voice. The steps are getting louder, slowly but constantly -

- and there he is: Davy Jones, who rules the ship, the beast of the ocean and of my heart.

Like on command the crew's attention slips from me to the captain and immediately they start to work again on deck. Rough commands, the noise of rassling chains and swelling sails fill the air. It is like they all completely forgot my presence but I know they did not but none of them dares keep his focus on the man who has the captain's attention now. And for me it does not matter. I only see him – the man I would have loved to know before he lost his own heart. He stands there, proud and strong, his piercing eyes linger on me and I do not know if I shiver under his gaze or the cold wetness that embraces my body like a cruel caress.

"I accept the challenge. The stakes?"

His voice is always the same and I feel my knees weaken under the weight of my body, I feel the shivers running down my spine and still it is not enough. I want to feel much more. Not a hint of hesitation or doubt is reflected in his behaviour or in his words while he awaits my answer. And like everything else my answer is the same as well. Just as I have answered every other time before tonight.

"My soul. An eternity of servitude."

With a short gesture the captain gives command to bring a table and the dice. We both sit down and even if the crew might wonder about all this they are obviously not showing their thoughts. Davy Jones, me, the crew – we all know that I will lose again tonight as I always do and although the lost bet means that I must stay on board with them, swear their oath like they all did I will be able to leave again later. But nobody says a single word because they know I will keep coming back to their cursed ship. One day this may change.

The dice fall and we say our wager. Ice cold water is dripping from my hair, my nose, my chin down on my hands and my fingers are shaking when I lift the dice box. Why are they shaking? Shaking so traitorous, so weak, so strong, so – love. It is the only game I can remember that I love to play and that I always hope to lose. I can feel his eyes lingering on me and it seems that he again has no doubt who will be the winner of the game. I do not dare to look down at the dice. I can see the raindrops on his tentacles reflecting the moonlight that peaks through the thick clouds every now and then. All I want is to get over this game so that I can feel the sweet touch of those many little arms. My breath comes heavily and I swallow roughly. Lost. I can tell it from the cheering of the crew that I lost the game and I wonder when they will realise that my place on this ship and my status is irrevocably different from theirs. Will there still be cheering then? I do not care. All I want is to pay for the lost game.

"Welcome to the crew, Mr. Turner!"

When I look up I can see a twisted sparkle in Davy Jones eyes. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, the chest that still owns a heart. I wonder what the captain feels in his chest now. What replaced the thumping of a heart so deep inside? More cheering, more rain, another lightening bolt rips the darknes of the night apart for a brief moment. Our gazes locked; briefly but long enough to end the game we do not need to play and that is still the only reason that allows me to be on board of the 'Dutchmen'. Close, closer, only another moment and I am under deck. I enter the cabin with the huge organ. I heard Davy Jones play once by accident. He does not know that so I cannot tell him how wonderful it sounds when he plays. The awareness that I will never ever be able to share this with him hurts, it hurts deep inside and it hurts cruelly. He would not play for me. I know that. I know it because I asked him the second night I came to the ship to challenge him, for another reason already than in the first night. I had seen the change in his expression, I had felt the tension rise in his body and it was not a good one. The moment I asked I knew it was a mistake and I do not want to cause such pain for him again – it does not matter how much I will suffer in exchange. I can take it, I know it. I will always keep the sound of the organ and his honest and powerful play in my memory.

He closes the door behind him and locks out all the noises coming from above – the pouring rain, the thunder, the water around us, the crew, everything. We are in our own little world for the next few hours now and nothing can step into this precious little world. We both suffer, I can see it and for both of us people we loved and still love caused that cruel pain that will never diminishing. He suffers because he lost the love of his life – I know the story – and me? Suffering because I realise that I will not be the love of his life. I will not be his story.

Davy Jones steps behind me, so close, not close enough. I close my eyes when I can smell him and I take a deep breath. I must, I need take everything in and it does not matter what it is or how small it is. Need, want, so badly. Now. When I cock my head I feel the first oh so sweet touch of one of his tentacles. Without thinking I lean back against his strong body and it feels – right. More tentacles are creeping up and around my body, more touching and the first quiet moan escapes my throat. A moan that says everything. I submit to the man, I give in and I beg openly for more. And there is nothing pathetic in it. Slowly he starts to undress me, carefully as if he wants to take care of my clothes but I do not care. I want him to rip my shirt apart, my trousers, me – it does not matter as long as he loves me. Fucks me. Claims me. Hard and fast.

"So that is what you want, hm? Hard and fast…"

My eyes snap open; not even realising that I had closed them. Did I say that out aloud? What else did I say? The atmosphere in the room changed, I recognise this just now. It seems to be hotter and colder at the same time. One tentacle arm creeps around my chest and pulls me back against his body even tighter; so tight that it nearly hurts.

"Answer me!" he demands and there it is; the next touch. The touch I longed for so desperately. The cool tip of the tentacle brushes lightly. over one of my nipples and again, harder, more demanding this time. So cool, so wet. My head falls back and it is like I am following a silent command when my mouth opens.

"God, yes… please."

Nothing really happened yet and none the less I am begging already. The smell of the sea becomes more intense behind me and the air in the room dampens. I can feel the wetness on my exposed skin where my clothes are removed already. I am shivering still, again, due to the coldness and due to all the things he does to me. I want him, oh, I want him so badly. I am pushed forward and I stumble as I did not expect this. I stumble and I fail to regain my balance. I fall and I land hard on the floor but I do not care yet he is over me immediately with a swift movement that surprises me. The rest of my clothes are gone and I lay under him; sprawled and exposed before him.

The tentacles are everywhere now and I cannot stop looking up at him, so weak and so powerful at the same time. His touches are slippery and wet, cool and still so hot. It feels like I am burning where he touches me and I can feel the coldness spreading over my body in weird patterns wherever his tentacles move to. Moving. Up and down, down, down, further down and – oh God. I arch my back beneath him to get more contact, pushing my hips and my straining cock up against a touching, fumbling tentacle. I can hear his rattling breath and I know that he is deadly aroused by now as well.

He just looks down at me and I fight the urge to close my eyes again. I want to see while I feel. The tentacles do all the work. Holding me down in place, touching my face so carefully and gently, brushing over hardened nipples again and again, and finally one entwines around my aching cock that begs for release. I could easily come from the single touch down there already, but before I can give in another tentacle joins the first one, unerringly, fast, hard – squeezing tightly.

"No!"

My breath hitches and I am pouting, gasping for air and I try desperately to move away. I want to get out of the merciless grip that will stop me from coming until he wants me to. I want release now. Need, please, fuck, now. I see stars and I cannot utter a single word. Whatever I try to do there is no way for me to free myself and touch myself – and in all truth deep inside I know that I do not even want this. I want to come from his touch, from his cock, from his hands. After a few moments of strugglings against the uncomfortable restraint – moment he let me have, moments he let pass only – I give in. I am breathing heavily by now and do not know anymore who I am and where I am. How long I am here and why exactly I am here. All that counts is the throbbing, aching, painful feeling between my legs.

And again I realize that the room has changed around us. It seems to be darker now, door and organ are gone. With a smile I realise that probably the shadows came back to life and devoured all the unnecessary things. Davy Jones looks down at me and nods, a satisfied expression on his face. He pushes my legs apart and pushes forward. When I feel the tip of his cock against my opening I have him inside me completely already.I have no other chance than to engulf him completely. It feels like I am exploding. My body, my mind, my thoughts, everything that is part of my being can do nothing but focus on his powerful presence.

Moving. In, out – back, forth. I hear a deep moan escaping a throat, my throat and the same time I knew that to come here was worth whatever might come one day. Because while he pushes deep inside me I know that it will not be like this for the rest of my life. His life. The day will come when everything has to change. I do not know the reason yet but I know that a reason will be there. Certainly. The chest I have never seen, the key which is his most protected treasure, my youth that will vanish or his immortal, cruel life on this ship. One day – one dark night like this one will come when he will challenge me.

The dice must be thrown.

I cannot take any more. I want to tell him, I want to beg again for release but not a single word, not even the tiniest noise leaves my throat. My existence is only filled with Davy Jones and his cock. All I can do is to let him have his way – this is the reason why I am here anyway. Is it not? I do not want to end this. Never ever. I try to grab something, anything, with my hands to find some halt, but there is nothing but the slippery floor I can grab. A slick cock pushes against the secret sweet spot deep inside of me again and again, so hard, so fast – just as I had asked for. And then the tight grip around my own member is gone. I come with a loud scream and feel the exhilaration when he follows me.

The dice were thrown. It is over.

Seconds, minutes, ages pass – I do not know. But everything returns: the organ, the door, the muffled noises on deck, the damp cool air. It is time to leave. Yes, so soon. I would love to stay longer but I cannot risk that and we both know it. It is cruel and I hate it. I want to stay with him. Not on the 'Dutchman', not swear the damn oath, not to be like the whole crew is but only to be with him. But this is not possible. He knows that I will come back and he knows that I cannot stay so he does not ask. I can see it in his eyes that he thinks to ask me everytime we meet but he does not. Not yet. One day he will though -

- and I do not know what my answer will be.

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The End. 


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